Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

Breakin’ Out – Lenten Meditation
April 15, 2017

Lenten Meditation “Breakin’ Out”


It started out as a good day,
A Friday I believe it was.
It was just another weekend
To “billow our sails” as it oft does.
Then came along this “Jesus” thing
I gathered from flappin’ jaws
He was “just another madman,
Dyin’ for a silly cause.”
Another band of followers,
Scraggly, poor misguided and blind
You’d think they’d see clear through him,
His scheme and purpose behind
All his syrupy kindness,
The miracles and stuff-
But as the floggings weakened him
You could see he wasn’t that tough.

Although it was somewhat curious
The manner this person held
After being beat and spat upon
His fiery eyes “Love” spelled.
For many stood by watching-
I felt sorry for the chap
Especially when they donned him
With the robe and thorny cap.
I remember quite clearly
My own mouth parched and dried;
The thirst I knew was his own
Dragging the tree undignified.

Thank goodness for those women
Weeping loudly there close by.
They at least had a chance to help him
And wiped his sweat-face dry.
There was another Godsend;
Simon, I think his name ran;
A passer-by, pressed into service.
What an ill-chosen man.
Then I’ve often pondered
That there may have been a “glue,”
A mysterious force of love, or such,
That welded the hearts of the two.

There we were, trudging along now,
Up to the hill of the Skull.
We all knew what was at the top-
In the mayhem there was a slight lull.
I heard one stander-by’s deep gasp
As they laid him on the tree–
“Why are they nailing him alone?
Why not just tie all three?”
The soldiers pounded those fat wrist nails.
It was apparent they must be assured
That this Jesus whom they crucified
For all time would be secured.

When I saw this innocent young man
My heart began to boil
As they lifted him high in agony,
My mind in fierce turmoil!
Just for a split second there
I saw him looking at me
Out of the crowds around us
Into MY heart he could see.
Open the window of your soul,
Close your eyes for a moment or two.
See those pained, kind eyes of Jesus
Looking you through and through.
“I never did great wrongs, dear Sir”
“Yes, but you’re far from me–
Come closer, I’ll give you joy and peace
And set your bound heart free.”

Right then my palms began to sweat
I could see that he was right.
Where was the joy, the peace, the hope
I’d fought for with all my might?
His searching gaze as I beheld
Said plain enough to me
“Come closer, I’ve done all the work
Give me YOU, and I’ll set you free.”
That’s what I did midst the bustling noise
As I saw him drinking the gall.
“Take my angry, selfish ‘me’–
Just as I am” – and He took it all.

I hung around till just before three,
The crowds had all gone but a few.
A storm was blackening the skies.
A threatening uneasiness grew.
For the first time in a while He spoke-
“Forgive them. They know not what they do”
As in a cry of deep anguish
He began shouting Psalm Twenty-Two.
He looked at his mother
And a man named John,
And afterwards gazed at me.
“It is finished,” He gasped in his final breath
But I knew that’s not all there’d be.

The lightning, the clouds and the furious rain,
The ground shaking under my feet,
Are all but a lost, fading memory
As I went over to take my seat
Beside John and His mother Mary,
Where we sat for the rest of the day,
Crying, sobbing and searching
For words–but there was nothing to say.

I helped them take Him down from the cross
Carrying him to the tomb.
We heaved and shoved this huge round rock
To seal off that precious room
Where all my life’s past doubts were laid,
And all my future’s dreams,
For I had given away my heart…
My loves, my worries, and schemes.
I knew that something more must come,
Just what I couldn’t tell.
All Saturday we moped around
And, I’m sure felt a taste of Hell.
The doubts, the fears and loneliness
Threatened to choke our light.
Where would we go, what would we do?
“Father, hear us in our plight!”

That night’s sleep was a fitful one,
Must have waked a dozen times.
But finally came the Sunday dawn
Roused by the temple chimes.
As I got dressed and ready to go
There was a frantic knock at the door.
Mary, hysterically happy with joy,
Cried, “Jesus’ body–it is no more!”
It was hard to make sense of her scattered words.
Thank goodness for Peter and John,
Who both appeared at that very moment
Confirming the body was gone.

I didn’t know to be joyous or sad
Till they explained just what it meant:
“He said that in three days He’d rise’,
He’s finally Death’s bonds rent!”
I am not sure how that spoke to them,
I know what it said to me.
That short time I looked into his eyes
And gave all, had set me free.
Not that it was me at all,
It was He who lured me in.
It was He who gave my heart the call,
And He who broke my sin.

Many years have past since that day
Yet I’m as close right now
To Jesus as I was back then
When I close my eyes and bow.
I can feel Him in the very room–
A Peace just permeates all.
My heart begins to burn like fire
When I’m quiet to hear His call.
He is the Risen Lord, indeed,
He’s conquered death and sin
And vitally important for me
He’s set all aright within.

Jon Jacobs.
(c) 2011

Forlorn Search
March 18, 2015

Forlorn Search

My days are filled 

With hours 
Of cluttered symbolism,
Hasty desires.
They mean nothing.
All simultaneously 
Clutter so closely 
That I am driven,
Salivating for them.
The meaningless of life.
Rip your heart open
Pour out the blackness,
The slime…
Invite pure joy
Infinite fullness
To envelope 
To caress
The Who
That you are. 
Finally Eternally grateful
I may rest 
In eternal peace.
jon jacobs. 3/17/15

Forlorn Search My days are filled  With hours  Of cluttered symbolism, Hasty desires. They mean nothing. All simultaneously  Clutter so closely  That I am driven, Salivating for them. The meaningless of life. Rip your heart open Pour out the blackness, The slime… Invite pure joy Infinite fullness To envelope  To caress The Who That you […]

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September 11th
September 22, 2013


September 11, the radical operation
On a country infected by a silent disease
The scalpel that carved out a cancer:
The indifference of our souls

Smoke billowed heavenward,
Prayers crying for comfort
For answers to why
From the towers pierced
By our own supreme technology.

Blind cataracts of our mundane milieu
Crumbled in those early hours.
Days we cried for reasons
Of unanswerable horrors
Inflicted by an entity yet unknown

Who is my brother?
He who raced into the buildings
He who sifted through the ashes
Weeping for those he never knew
The brave who stood up to terror in the sky
Men, women, who now stand vigilant as protectors

Amber waves of grain,
Her purple mountains
A nation grounded on God’s love
America gathers a people once again
United in bonded brotherhood
We will ever stand firm

Johnkul007. 10/20/12

Hurricane Hugo (anniversary)
September 22, 2013


The winds blew…
I saw them all around,
Felt them tear at the soul of the land
Ancient sentries snapped, and snapped again
The trees bowing down before its fury
Not in worship but in submission
Their exalted years surrendering
Mustering not even a silent curse
Something left with the winds
Stripping all creatures from the countryside
In awe exhausted men gaped.
Empty, desolate, wasted
“It was like a war zone”
Though few had seen a battle
The ache was for a loved one lost
Torrents of rain and tears
Blurred visions
Blinded by cataracts of memories destroyed
Strewn as seaweed along endless beaches
Old photographs, bits of others’ lives
Knew no boundaries or surveyors’ markers
Like stray dogs they had wandered aimlessly
Deposited as evidence of unforgettable ravage
Now is the hour
Birth and death lie separated
By a narrow ravine of time
Over which we may jump
Or crawl
Or glide.
By wings eternal
I will glide.

July 7, 2013


Just where does it begin,
And where end,
This stuff of reality?
The forward part of my mind says now
is here,
Surrounding time of before and after
Never were,
Then never will be—
I know it is not so.
The backward portion sees
The past as through smoked glass,
Weeding out rotten-apple memories
Planting carnations and violets
In fields of forgotten vignettes,
Special moments longed for—
Mind’s eye lanes less traveled,
Lacing lost love forests…
Or perhaps not lost,
Just laid aside, a bit overgrown
Forever watered by the babbling
Bitter-sweet passions meandering by.
Follow it–follow it past the now
Into the year’s end hopes—
The goal so highly sought,
The wandering, the journey,
This is the now.
The reality I’ve looked so long for.
I glance here and over there, all about,
For someone’s hand to pull, to push, to

June 27, 2013


What is a fool?.
I am a fool.
Can a fool recognize himself,
Or must others always point it out?
Does the realization come suddenly
Like an explosion in a tomato factory
Covering him with malodorous red rottenness? Does it creep on like algae in a stagnant pond? Can a fool feel?
Can a fool fool?
How long does a fool live?
For himself? For others?
How do you discard a fool,
Rid yourself of the malignant little bother?
A little enticement and he lingers by,
Like the unpleasant smell of old English Leather Too copiously applied.
He’ll die of dehydration—
Millions of silent tears—
How do you know a fool?
Ask one.
Ask me. I know.
I am a fool.

Jon Jacobs

June 4, 2013


Torrential rain shouts at me
From my windshield
Deafening, blinding
Awash after thirty miles of free fall
Suicidal to final impact
Now lying in limp puddles
Reflecting dark clouds above
Glistening brightly jagged bolts
Deaf to their resounding voices
Ready for rolling, round rubber
As final dissipation.

Flowers open their mouths
Drinking wetness
Perspiring fragrance
Smiling in color
Swaying under pelting massage
Calling dinner to butterflies
Dreaming of the gentle teen
They will adorn as bold corsage.
Life again eternal.
Called by the sun
For another journey.

Golden Girl
June 4, 2013


In Days of Dreams and Fantasies
When Balmy Spring blows through
I cast my thoughts out to the wind
That bears them searching you.
Finding yours they light caress
Brush fingers through your hair
Then crawl neatly beside your mind
To feel the way you care.

They seek you out long weeks gone by Straining each silent hour
Listening for the sibilant chords
That mark your song’s strange power The arias playing cacophonic
Waft to melody
Your azure eyes discovered here
Beam forth your symphony.

The vision of that Golden One
Danced and laughed, then knew
My simple mind laid bare before her Exposed, naked, true.
She intuited, saw in the lair
Hiding ecstasies long buried
Her searching eyes peered past my
My patchwork world she queried.

Viewed it through windows of my eyes, Gazed beyond my soul,
Flickering light burned brightly still
My love, my life, my whole—
She reached out her hand to touch Wresting him from the night
He reposed ‘longside at last
Nestled next down-soft delight

Quelling endless void within,
Warmth and depth swept clear
Present Vision real arms held,
Gently drew him near
Her sweet scent swirled full around him Drugging him with her smell
He now knew he couldn’t loose her Turn, turn, life’s carrousel!

Beach getaway
June 3, 2013


Sunshine drew tall shadows on undulant sand
I was taller than you
You giggled louder
Our smiles raced each other to dimples
And both won
Looking at you horizontally
On a warm blanket
Under molten sunlight
Gave new perspective
To your loveliness
You showed me your hair
I caressed its softness
We both said “ouch”
As we rolled over the sand spurs
You purred
While I sighed
Holding you in my arms
Is completion of a completely beautiful day
The sound of your voice,
Of the waves,
Of my heartbeat,
Coalesce in wonderment
The wonderment of love.

Jon Jacobs

An Evening of French
April 9, 2013


Rivulets of conversation
Drip like honey from your smile
Splashing on my cheeses and French croutons
Washed down with vintage wine
Return to you with bright blue eyes
Reflected in your chocolate browns
Dancing with schoolgirl delight.

Our talk meanders along seamless miles,
Unexplored and ancient paths,
Some by chance, some carefully chosen
A Lewis and Clark expedition
To discover new territories
Rummaging through Paleolithic ruins
Of stale relationships
With each rise and fall of hope
Presenting a new horizon
Desperate for congruity
Yet comfortable in an unspoken commonality

What did she say?
What has he meant?
He is so old…
She is so young…

There is the plank we walk
To the delight of alligators
And pirates of our destiny
We move step by step
Blindfolded with senses keen
Expectant that this last plunge
Will deliver us into that eternal hope
Enveloping us like an azure
Caribbean sea In that we drown,
Laughing silently
Sealed with a final interrogatory,
A temple kiss.